


I'm Holding My Heart and It's Overgrown

by jellyyscribs



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyyscribs/pseuds/jellyyscribs
Summary: A quick drabble about Hawke’s fascination with Anders’ hands.
Relationships: Anders/Female Hawke
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	I'm Holding My Heart and It's Overgrown

She sits on an unoccupied cot, feet dangling idly as she patiently waits for him. She knocks the toes of her boots around to keep herself occupied while her fingers are tapping lightly against the side of the cot. She’s not bored, just a little restless. After spending most of her day running around Kirkwall trying to help as many as she can, sitting out of the way is a foreign feeling to her. But her eyes are trained on the one thing that keeps her attention.

Anders is currently with a patient in need of his services. From what she can see from her quiet spot in the corner of the clinic, it’s nothing too serious. Much to her relief. Anders has been under a lot of stress as of late, not including the day to day stress added from running the clinic. The fine lines around his eyes are tensed as he concentrates on the task at hand, but that’s not what she’s focused on.

She watches long, nimble fingers flex, a soft glow emanating from them. It could be her imagination but she thinks she can feel the pulsating warmth of his magic even from where she’s seated. She does know from experience though how comforting his healing magic feels, so no matter how dire the situation may be, as long as they’re under Anders’ hands and care, they are at ease– which undoubtedly helps with the healing process when you’re patron is as relaxed as possible in given circumstances.

It’s her favourite pastime as she waits for Anders’ company. Watching him work. Specifically his hands, his hands that she knows intimately. Calloused from gripping his staff, but they never feel rough against her skin. She’s fully aware of the power that lies behind those hands but she also knows how gentle and tender those hands can be. Hands that hold a heavy burden; she has many memories of shaking hands from late nights and unending hours of writing by dim candlelight, fighting for what’s right.

The lanterns are starting to go dim around her—she didn’t realize how much time had passed as Anders finishes with his last patient of the day. She slinks off of the cot and towards the healer. After everyone has left the clinic, Anders’ shoulders slump forward, weary. She puts her own hand on his shoulder hoping her own hands can be a touch of comfort. At her touch he turns around to face her. His eyes are tired but there’s also a smile behind them as he takes in her face, her own gentle smile radiates just for him. The hand she has on his shoulder falls down, fingers trailing lightly against his arm until her hand clasps his; fingertips gently gripping against each other.

“You did a lot of good here today Anders, I’m proud of you.” She says softly, and his lips finally quirk up into a small grin.

“You say that everyday.” He retorts but the tone of his voice is affectionate and his smile doesn’t falter.

“That doesn’t make it any less true.” She explains. And she means it. She’s incredibly proud of Anders and the hard work he dedicates into everything he does.

“I know.” He finally replies, and his head drops a little, eyes focused on their hands entwined.

She lifts the hand that’s grasped in her own and raises it to her lips pressing a soft kiss into the palm,

“Let’s go home, love.”


End file.
